


And if I scream, darling, will you listen?

by MajorTrouble



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Music, accidental!warlord au, child character, jaskier is quite the teacher, referenced relationship stuff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-31
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:40:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24478084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MajorTrouble/pseuds/MajorTrouble
Summary: Lambert finds a tiny child on one of his patrols around the Witcher's Keep. The tiny child informs him they are here to learn music from the bard Jaskier. They are quite adamant about this. And so, baffled by the tiny child, Lambert takes them to meet Jaskier and the rest of the Wolves.Jaskier is surprised and curious when the child - Amaris - is presented to him. She is full of anger and mystery, but a with a voice that he knows has the potential to make the entire Continent pay attention. Now he just has to get past that calculating mind and get her to trust him.
Relationships: Eskel/Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 51
Kudos: 194
Collections: Inspired by inexplicific Accidental Warlord AU





	1. First Movement - Introduction

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! My hand slipped and I had an idea and ended up in the [ Accidental Warlord](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1683661) universe quite by accident (ha ha!) so here is a five part story that takes place after [Twirl Three Notes and Make A Star](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23878012/chapters/57399703). 
> 
> Thank-you, [inexplicifics](https://archiveofourown.org/users/inexplicifics/pseuds/inexplicifics) for letting me play in your sandbox <3

Lambert has no fucking clue how the kid got there. Which he honestly doesn’t want to admit to anyone since he’s the one who’s supposed to be on patrol today in this particular area outside the grounds of the castle. It was late afternoon, and he’d just started heading back, jogging at a steady pace along the edge of the long, sloping trail that looped around the training grounds and through the wooded area before coming out on the other side by the game trails. As he passed by the copse of spindly poplars that interspersed the broken rocks at the start of the trail up the mountain, he’d been smirking to himself, thinking of the last time Geralt had come this way, running off when something had spooked the fearless leader. It’d been nearly a year now and it was almost time to remind him of what an ass he’d been, Lambert’s favourite pastime. 

However, a flash of odd colour amidst the trees had him pausing in his tracks and doubling back. His eyes widened and he swore softly as he saw the kid, curled up around what looked like a travel pack, hunkered down between the rocks. He approached the kid quietly, trying to figure out how not to scare them off, and he wrinkled his nose at the rank smell of dirt and sweat emanating from the tiny body. A tiny tendril of something else was there, too. Something that smelled like - 

_Buttercups?_

As he got closer, the kid sprang to their feet, scrambling up one of the rocks across from him and brandishing what looked like a wickedly sharp little dagger in their hand. 

“Woah! Woah there, kid!” Lambert said, hands raised in front of him, trying to look as non-threatening as possible. Milena had told him that if he wanted to tone down the aura of intimidation that hung around him, he needed to make himself seem smaller.

“And perhaps you could swear less?” she’d said sweetly.

“I don’t think that’s fucking possible,” he’d replied, and she’d laughed, shaking her head at him.

Now, he bent his knees and hunched his shoulders, keeping his distance as the kid eyed him up. They were covered head to toe in a layer of dirt, and it obscured any distinguishing features. Their hair could be anywhere from dark brown to dirty blond, and the loose clothes they wore - brown breeches tucked into equally brown boots, and what had once been a white shirt but was now travel stained and grimy - hung off their small frame. Their eyes though were a brilliant hazel, flecked with green and they stared at him intently, like they were assessing him. There were a few children around Kaer Morhen, and Lambert hadn’t spent a great deal of time with them, but he didn’t think any of them looked as clearly determined and intelligent as this one.

They looked at each other for several tense seconds before the kid asked, “Who are you? Can you take me to the Witcher castle?” using the dagger to underline the question.

Lambert blinked. Huh. Okay. “My name’s Lambert. And sure, I guess. Why do you want to go there?” The kid smiled suddenly and shoved the dagger into a leather sheath on their belt, dropping back down to the ground and scooping up their pack. 

“I’m gonna be a bard. And Jaskier’s gonna teach me,” they said brightly. Peering up at Lambert’s incredulous expression, they huffed out a breath and stomped a foot. “Well? Are we going or what?” 

“Uh,” Lambert couldn’t exactly pinpoint when he’d lost control of the entire situation, but it was probably when he’d stopped to investigate. “Ya. Come on.” 

The trip back to the keep was much slower as the kid - Amaris - walked confidently beside him along the path, asking questions about the plants and trees and occasional animals they saw, before chatting animatedly about how they couldn't wait to meet Jaskier and start training and be just as good as him and someday be a travelling bard across the Continent and - 

“Wait. Where are you from, kid?” Lambert interrupted, just as they came back in sight of the training grounds. “Look, if your parents are missing you, we gotta know so we can send you back to them. You shouldn’t really be here. Fuck, how’d you even get here in the first place? And how old are you?”

Amaris waved a dismissive hand at Lambert’s incredulous face. “Nothing to worry about there. Hey what are they doing? Are they really throwing knives at each other? Oh my gods is he bleeding? Wait, why are they laughing?” 

Lambert rolled his eyes at the curious looks they were getting as he grabbed Amaris’ elbow and steered them into one of the side entrances near the kitchens. He guided the kid past the workstations there - “That’s a lot of vegetables! Where did they all come from?” - and up through the main hall - “Wow! This is huge! Does everybody eat in here?” - and knocked on the door to Geralt’s office, hopeful that the council hadn’t split up for the day. 

Eskel answered, looking first at Lambert, then down at Amaris, his eyebrows raising as he took in the scruffy kid. “What’s going on? Why do you have a small, filthy child with you?”

“A what?” came a voice from behind him, and Eskel pushed the door open further, beckoning the other two into the room. 

“Seems Lambert has suddenly acquired a child,” Eskel replied, returning to his seat near the door and crossing his arms over his chest. “Are you going to explain?”

Lambert opened his mouth to speak, but Amaris beat him to it. “I’m Amaris, and I’m going to be a bard and Jaskier is going to teach me.” 

There was a beat of complete silence.

“I am, am I?” Jaskier said, amusement colouring his tone as he stepped forward. “What makes you so sure of that?” 

Amaris stood up straighter, looking the bard in the eye and smiling. “Because I’m very good and I want to learn from the best and your songs and ballads are sung everywhere, I’ve memorized them all and sung them in the tavern and inns and other places and got paid to do it but now I need to write my own stuff so you have to teach me.” All of this was said in one breath, and Jaskier’s smile grew wider the longer the kid talked. 

“All right, I’ll consider it,” Jaskier replied. “I have some questions you have to answer first, though.” He looked over at Eskel first who inclined his head slightly. “Where did you come from?”

Amaris frowned, and looked thoughtful for a moment before answering. “Does it matter?” 

Jaskier huffed a laugh. “It does if there’s someone who is going to come collect you. We don’t need the Witchers to develop a reputation for stealing children.” His voice was stern and he watched this information be processed and digested by the tiny child in front of him. 

“No one is going to come look for me. Does that answer your question?” Amaris said finally, the kid’s chin jutting out defiantly. 

“Hmm, I suppose for now,” Jaskier replied, folding his arms over his chest and narrowing his eyes. “How old are you? And do you have a gender under all that dirt?”

Lambert snorted, but was quick to cover it up when Jaskier glanced up at him sharply. 

Amaris hesitated, eyes darting around the room and Jaskier suddenly felt cold. Aside from himself, Lambert and Eskel, Vesemir was seated on the far side - obviously watching the whole proceeding with amusement - but there was no one else in the office this late in the afternoon. Geralt was out training with the other Witchers, Yennefer was helping Triss in the still room and even Ciri was in the yard practicing her drills. 

“I’m twelve,” Amaris' voice only trembled a little. “And I’m, uh, I’m a girl. But I don’t think I should be judged for that!” she added hastily, and her jaw set in a firm line. 

Jaskier relaxed his posture, letting his arms drop to his sides. “Of course not. If you’re as good as you say, then soon everyone will know your name.” That seemed to be the right thing to say as she beamed at him again. “Let’s get you cleaned up and fed and somewhere to sleep and we’ll discuss all of this tomorrow, shall we?” 

Again, Amaris seemed to consider his words carefully before she nodded, once. 

“Lambert, please ask Milena to join us and she can take charge of Amaris for the time being. Give her the rooms near mine.” Jaskier waited till Lambert nodded and left before turning back to Amaris. “Milena is the Princess’ lady in waiting, so she has other duties to attend to, but she can show you the baths and the kitchens at least.” She could also possibly be a more soothing presence than any of the men currently in the room. Amaris nodded again and he watched as she glanced over at Eskel and then at Vesemir. 

Jaskier was about to open his mouth and introduce them when she spoke up again. “You’re Eskel Amber-Eyes,” she said pointedly, and Jaskier hid a grin as Eskel refrained from rolling his eyes and nodded. “And you’re Vesemir,” she turned to the other Witcher in the room, who nodded in his turn. She tapped her chin for a moment in thought as Jaskier watched in amusement. 

Then she started to sing. It was Eskel’s song, and even unaccompanied it rang through the room in clear, perfect tones. Jaskier felt his mouth drop open as she closed her eyes and seemed to pour her whole self into it. He didn’t even notice when Lambert returned with Milena, the two of them stepping just inside the door and staring at the child in wonder. 

When she finished, she opened her eyes and smiled at Jaskier smugly. “Told ya I was good.”

Lambert was the first to start laughing, startling Amaris who hadn’t heard him come in. “She’s got you there, Buttercup.” 

“Quite so,” he answered, voice thoughtful. “All right, Amaris, this is Milena. She’ll get you settled. Don’t go wandering off unless you have one of the pages with you. No sense in you getting lost your first day.”

Amaris nodded again and let Milena lead her out of the room, closing the door behind them. It was only then that Jaskier turned to Lambert and asked the all important question.

“What the fuck? Where did you find her?”

Lambert shrugged. “Out by the trail to the mountain pass. Almost didn’t. She was wedged down in the rocks and I thought she was asleep. Threatened me with a fucking dagger and told me to take her to Witcher castle so she could be trained by you.”

Eskel laughed softly. “That child threatened you with a dagger? And how did she get all the way down there without anyone noticing?” 

“I don’t fucking know. But she’s convinced me no one’s looking for her, at least.” Lambert glowered at Eskel. “And I didn’t say she was threatening. Just threatened.”

“Semantics.”

“Fuck you.”

“She seems pretty sure of herself,” Jaskier interrupted. “And given the state of her clothes, she’s been on the road for a few weeks at least. Can we make some discreet inquiries to see if someone is missing a child in the near villages?”

Eskel nodded. “I’ll send out word with the next patrols. Can’t trust Lambert to do it. Apparently he missed a whole entire child on his.”

“Fuck you.”

*

Once cleaned up and rested, Amaris proved to have blonde hair cut just to shoulder length. She’d carefully twisted it up at the nape of her neck, securing it with a long, sharp pin, before Milena had come to take her down to the kitchens for breakfast. 

She’d also been given a few choices of clothing and Jaskier was not surprised to see her in similar - but clean - attire to what she’d been wearing the day before. This time the clothes fit her better and he frowned to see how small she actually was. Shorter than Ciri by nearly a full head, despite being almost of an age, she looked much younger than her twelve years. So unless she’d been lying - and Eskel had told him no - then she’d had a rough childhood. 

Now she stood in the office again, bright eyes staring down the White Wolf and Jaskier was beginning to get the impression that Amaris had the same self-preservation instincts as he did. He refrained from grinning, but only just. 

“My Lord,” he started formally, “this is Amaris. Lambert found her near the trail to the mountain.” He couldn’t help but notice the surprised tick in his jaw at that. “She says she wants to be a bard.”

“Hmm,” Geralt replied, studying the girl. “What do we need of another bard?” 

Again, before Jaskier could speak, Amaris opened her mouth. This seemed like it was going to be a pattern. “You need someone to go out in your kingdom and sing the songs Master Jaskier writes. And someone who can write their own - someone who isn’t sleeping with you.” 

Jaskier gaped at her for a moment, but Geralt just huffed a laugh. Behind them both, Eskelt choked on whatever he was drinking and coughed for a few seconds, Yennefer pounding on his back in sympathy. 

“All right, true enough I suppose,” Jaskier replied, once he’d gotten his voice back. “Can you play any instruments?”

Amaris nodded. “Fiddle, recorder, tabor and the lute - a little.” That seemed a bit backwards to Jaskier. The lute was much more versatile when it came to travelling, but if she’d learned the fiddle first, that might narrow down where she was from. 

“Do you have any of those instruments? Did you bring any with you?” 

She hesitated, then shook her head. Jaskier glanced over at Geralt quickly as the other stiffened, but looked back when the other shook his head. _Later._

“Well, I’m sure we can find something. In the meantime, I do have an extra lute we can start you practicing on.”

The kid’s eyes lit up at that and it seemed to take all of her willpower to stay still. “So you’re going to train me?”

Jaskier nodded but just as Amaris opened her mouth to speak again, he held up a finger. “But, you have to prove you’re worth my time.” He felt more than saw both Eskel and Geralt look over at him sharply. “You’re going to need to learn other things as well. How to read and write. Maths and geography. You have a dagger but I don’t think you really know how to use it. And we’ll be watching you. Just because you’re a child doesn’t mean we trust you.”

He watched as again Amaris digested this information, sorting through it and analyzing it before nodding, once. “Of course. And I can read and write already. The other stuff I’ll need to learn.” She smiled, and it was a tight, feral thing. “I know how to use the dagger though.”

Jaskier studied her for another moment before taking two quick steps forward and wrenching the dagger out of its sheath and throwing it behind him for Eskel to catch. The Witcher did it neatly, grabbing the handle of the weapon as it flew through the air. Amaris’ expression was impassive as Jasker towered over her. They stared at each other for a moment before she looked away first, grimacing. 

He knelt down on one knee in front of her, noticing how rigidly she held herself as he spoke quietly to her. “I don’t doubt it, little cat, but you asked to be here, so you have to follow our rules.” He waited till she nodded again before he lowered his voice even more, knowing that the Witchers would still hear, but wanting at least the illusion that the words were just for her. “No one will touch you here, understand? You’re safe.” He leaned back slightly to look her in the eye again and he could see her weighing his words, but behind that there was a flicker of something else. He gritted his teeth as she nodded sharply, swallowing. He was right. 

Sometimes he hated being right. 

He stood up, looking again at Geralt before rubbing his hands together and smiling warmly down at his new student. “Right! Let’s set up a schedule for you, and then we’ll get you some more clothes and find a fiddle.”

Geralt waited until Amaris had bounded out the door, on the way back to her rooms with a long list of things to find before supper, before turning to the bard with a raised eyebrow. 

Jaskier leaned forward in his chair and rested his forehead on the table in front of him. He groaned loudly, equal parts frustration and resignation. “Just when I think things couldn’t possibly get more complicated,” his voice was muffled slightly by the wood and he sat up again, meeting Eskel’s eyes across the table. “What do you think?”

It was just the three of them now. Yennefer had left once she was sure she wasn’t needed. She may have a well-deserved reputation for being terrifying, but she still had a soft spot for children. Especially strays. 

Eskel rubbed his hand over his face thoughtfully before answering. “She’s strong willed, that’s for sure. And her voice is - “ he paused, considering before shaking his head. “Even I can tell that when she’s older it’s going to be amazing.”

Jaskier nodded. “Yes. I have the feeling that someone else started training her at first. But something happened to them, and that might be why she’s here.” 

“Why not send her to Oxenfurt, then? Surely the university would be a better place for her than a Witcher’s keep?” 

“There’s a reason it’s mostly nobles and aristocrats who send their children there, dear heart. Everything costs money. And even if I sponsored her, I don’t think she’d thrive.” He grinned suddenly. “And maybe I’m a bit selfish, wanting to teach and mold that talent myself; another part of my legacy.” 

Eskel rolled his eyes. “Of course. Should have known there’d be an entirely different motivation.” He paused, his eyes narrowing. “But what you said to her, about teaching her being worth your time? That seemed a bit harsh.”

He laughed properly this time, startling Eskel, which just made him laugh harder. “Were you watching her? She was scheming like a true noble behind those eyes. If I didn’t push back immediately and demand fair exchange, she’d never truly respect me. It’s a power play. Not one I’d expect from a twelve year old, but there you have it.” He paused, brows furrowed as he thought. “What I’m more interested in is what she didn’t say. Her hesitations and the fact that I am absolutely certain she’s been abused.” 

Geralt growled low in his chest before he spoke. “She didn’t have an instrument with her, but I think that’s because it was taken from her.” 

Jaskier nodded. “Exactly. And when she first came in, she was very reluctant to tell me how old she was, let alone her gender. I realized a little too late that it was because she was facing a room full of men.” He sighed. “This is going to be worse than teaching Ciri.”

“Hmm?” Geralt asked.

“At least with her, I know who she is, what she’s capable of. Amaris is a complete mystery.”

“At least she’s not armed anymore,” Eskel chimed in, placing the confiscated dagger on the table. 

“Love, if you think that’s the only one she has, you’re more naive than I ever thought possible.”


	2. Second Movement - Exposition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How do you solve a problem like Amaris?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Thank-you for your patience my friends. Please enjoy the next chapter! I'm on a roll this week. :) 
> 
> As before, this is in the Accidental warlord AU, but any OOC is mine own.

After the first week, Jaskier made sure that Amaris’ life settled into a busy routine. She ate breakfast with the rest of the kitchen staff, sat in on Ciri’s lessons in maths and geography in the early morning, then went off on her own to read the stack of books Jaskier assigned her before supper. Again, she ate in the kitchen, tucking herself into a corner and chatting amiably with the cooks and maids before heading up to Jaskier’s rooms for part of the afternoon where he set about teaching her to play his old lute. 

It was slow going as she tried to get her fingers to splay across the fretboard in a consistent manner. Jaskier watched as she would get more and more frustrated before she’d take a deep breath, relaxing her whole self and starting again. 

The first time she’d done it, he’d been taken completely aback at the level of discipline that action required, but had decided not to comment on it. By the third day, when he could see her hands visibly starting to shake and cramp, but again she stilled and took a deep breath, he stopped, setting his own lute aside and shaking his head.

“Amaris,” he started softly. “You don’t have to push yourself so hard so quickly. You’re only just starting out. This may be similar to a fiddle, but there are more strings, and there’s more surface area to cover. Your hands are too small to be perfect right now.” 

The look she levelled at him was filled with so much anger he almost - since he’d first come to Kaer Morhen - felt fear touch its icy fingers to his spine. However, her voice, when she spoke, was completely flat. “I’m aware of my shortcomings, Master Jaskier. But diligent practice makes a perfect student.” And she bent her head back to the instrument, a stray lock of hair dropping down to shadow her eyes. 

_ What the fuck was that? _ Jaskier thought to himself as he watched her fingers press the strings down in order. The thought followed him through the rest of his day and into the next. 

Rumours began to come to him from various sources over the next few weeks. Despite the invitation to dine in the great hall, she chose to eat in the kitchen or her room. She would cheerfully engage anyone and everyone in conversation, but would deftly steer it away from herself. No one ever saw her in the baths. Milena finally figured out that she was getting up in the dead of night to slip down and soak by herself. 

Amaris had become fast friends with Ciri. Since she didn’t know as much as the Wolf’s heir about geography and maths, Ciri had taken it upon herself to catch her up. In return, Amaris taught her all the games she thought she should know. This included one involving a playing card, a piece of chalk and a dagger that Geralt definitely didn’t approve of. 

Lambert found her following him around as often as not, but when he went to look for her, she was oddly missing. At first he’d put it down to not being familiar enough with her scent in order to pick it out over everything else in the keep. However, even concentrated searches couldn’t find her when she didn’t want to be found.

Amaris was like a ghost inside Kaer Morhen. Geralt was rightly concerned when both Eskel and Vesemir brought it up at one of their council meetings, after the child had been at the keep for nearly two months. 

“She’s bright, and curious, and always willing to help when asked,” Eskel started, arms crossed over his chest as he leaned back from the stack of correspondence he’d finished with. “But there’s something unsettling about her that I can’t quite put my finger on.”

Vesemir shifted in his seat across from Eskel, brow furrowed in a deep frown. “I wasn’t sure, but Lambert has said that on a few occasions he hasn’t been able to track her.”

Jaskier’s eyebrows shot into his hairline. “What? How do you mean? I thought Witcher’s could track anything once they caught the scent.”

“That’s just it - he doesn’t think she has her own scent.” He shrugged.

There was a thoughtful silence that followed this statement before Geralt spoke softly. “That may make her incredibly dangerous.” He looked over at Eskel. “I want you to go find her, right now. And send Yennefer here.” His right hand nodded and left quickly. 

Jaskier started fidgeting, tapping his fingers against the table before standing quickly and pacing back and forth in front of the fireplace, running a hand through his hair. He knew Geralt was watching him with some concern, but he couldn’t help himself. He was thinking rapidly about how he’d so quickly agreed to teach this child, without knowing her background, without understanding where she’d come from, and without knowing what kind of risk she represented.  He should have been more cautious.

Yennefer came into the office at the same time that Geralt stepped forward, blocking his path and wrapping an arm around him, effectively pinning him to his chest and stopping his pacing. 

“I can see you unravelling, little lark,” his voice rumbled against Jaskier’s chest. “But the same thought is going through all of us - she’s only a child.”

“Are we talking about Amaris?” Yennefer asked. Jaskier looked around Geralt’s bulk to see the mage leaning back, bracing her hands against the map table. He nodded at her and she huffed an undignified noise through her nose. “Of course we are. That brat is all anyone talks about.”

The bard pushed himself away from Geralt, though he let his love keep one arm wrapped around his waist. “What do you mean?”

She smiled thinly. “The entire kitchen staff adore her. Half the Cat Witchers are enamored of her because she’s not afraid to scale the highest bits of the keep and has enticed them into hide and seek more than a few times. And she follows Lambert around like a dutiful pup.” She sighed.

Jaskier pursed his lips in thought before replying. “Do you think she’s dangerous?” he asked slowly.

She stared at him for a moment, and he could see her calculating her response as she took into consideration the need for such a question. “No one is completely without threat,” she hedged. “Look at you. You’re a vicious little thing, but people underestimate you all the time.”

That statement broke the tension in the room as Geralt huffed a laugh and Jaskier smiled ruefully. Even Vesemir grinned. 

“But I don’t know,” Yennefer continued. “I’m not as good at figuring out people’s intentions and motives as you are. Only if they pose a magical threat.” 

Jaskier hummed, considering. He turned to Geralt. “Has there been any indication from the patrols that there’s anyone looking for her?” 

The White Wolf frowned. “No. Although their inquiries have been discrete, and the further patrols haven’t come back yet. I wouldn’t expect any answer for another week.” 

Nodding, he pulled out of Geralt’s embrace and started pacing again, but this time in a more measured, steady rhythm. “Maybe we should be more cautious with her, then. Set a watch.” He grinned suddenly. “She likes Lambert, and Milena says she’s only ever been pleasant to her. What do you think?” 

“I think it would be worth it to keep an eye on her. Especially if she is intentionally avoiding us,” Geralt nodded. “Not just Lambert though. Rotate a few so it’s not as obvious. The Cat School likes her? We’ll get them in on it.” His lips twitched into a small smile. “All this for a twelve-year-old child.”

Just then, Eskel burst through the door, Lambert and Letho behind him. “I can’t find her,” he said shortly, clearly frustrated. “She’s a fucking child and I  _ cannot find her _ !” 

Alarmed, Jaskier held out his hand to him, placing it on his chest in a soothing gesture while Geralt addressed all three of them.

“I’m assuming you’ve scoured the whole keep?” 

Lambert nodded. “Ya. From the baths to the towers. Out to the training grounds. The kitchens, Ciri’s rooms, her rooms, the fuck bard’s rooms. She doesn’t want to be found, so we can’t.” 

Geralt turned to Yen, raising an eyebrow in question. The mage rolled her eyes but stood up straighter. “Fine. I’ll find your wayward girl.” She closed her eyes, mumbling under her breath and frowning in concentration. 

The room was quiet and tense as they waited. And waited. Yen’s hands balled into fists and sweat started to bead on her brow. Jaskier glanced at Geralt, certain this wasn’t what was supposed to be happening. The Witcher was leaning towards her, frowning deeply. 

An ear splitting scream rang out. It rippled through the air with a force like a shock wave, causing Jaskier to sag to his knees on the cobbles and the other men in the room to instinctively reach up to block their ears. The sound went on and on, coming from everywhere at once before it was suddenly silenced. 

Jaskier shook his head, trying to clear the ringing that seemed to be the only sound he was capable of hearing. He could see Yennefer’s mouth moving, and Geralt replying, but couldn’t make out what they were saying. He watched as Eskel, Lambert, and Letho ran from the room and he tried to stand up, but his legs wouldn’t answer. Strong hands gripped his elbows, dragging him to stand and he clung to Geralt as the stronger man moved him bodily from the floor. He leaned into Geralt’s side as the ringing subsided, squeezing his eyes closed to ward off the accompanying wave of dizziness. When he finally felt like he could move on his own without immediately falling over, he stood up straighter, though he kept a hand on the bigger man’s side just in case. 

Yennefer was breathing heavily, forearms propping herself up on the table. Her head hung down between her shoulders and her long hair obscured her face. It took her a few more minutes before she managed to push herself back up and turn back around to face Geralt and Jaskier. 

“What the fuck was that?” Jaskier said, for about the tenth time in as many days. 

Yen shook her head, seeming to immediately regret it as she squeezed her eyes shut, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I couldn’t find her. So I thought she wasn’t in the keep. I stretched the spell out further, looking, and I still couldn’t find her. I reasoned that she couldn’t have possibly gone that far, and that made me hone in on your old lute instead. Easier to find.” She tried for a grin, but it was a pained expression. “It was high up on the top of the keep, near that wall that overlooks the training grounds. And so was she. But I couldn’t  _ see _ her. It was as if she didn’t exist except where she touched the lute. I pushed, trying to understand why, and something pushed back. So I pushed harder.” She paused, rubbing a hand over her face and Jaskier noted with some surprise that it shook slightly. “I didn’t mean to scare her. I only wanted to know  _ why _ .” Her eyes closed as she sighed. “She’s not conscious of it. There’s something - something that’s been done to her to cause it.”

“It was a defense mechanism?” Geralt asked.

Yennefer nodded slowly. “I believe so. The scream is tied to her voice. You said it was good, but what if it’s that way for a reason? Siren’s use their voices to trap the unsuspecting. Could she have that kind of heritage?”

But Vesemir was already shaking his head. “There’d be no way to mask that kind of scent, or that kind of tell-tale marking. We’ve come across folk like that before. Even so diluted, it’s easy to see.”

“Then what?” Jaskier asked impatiently. The sound of the scream had been terrifying but also terrified. “If not that, then what?”

Yennefer only shook her head. “I don’t know. But we need to find out.”

A few minutes later Lambert reappeared, Amaris cradled in his arms. Eskel followed him, holding Jaskier’s old lute by the neck. Both of them looked out of sorts. Instead of setting her down anywhere, Lambert carefully lowered himself into a chair by the fire, keeping the girl tucked up against him and trying not to jostle her too much. She seemed so much smaller than her twelve years would attest to.

“Found her on the top of the tower,” Eskel murmured to Geralt as he handed the lute to Jaskier gingerly. “Unconscious. If she’d been any closer to the edge…” his voice trailed off as all three of them turned to look at the girl. “However, pretty sure that’s not how a lute should look.”

Jaskier glanced down at the instrument he held in one hand. He hadn’t really registered when Eskel had passed it to him, but now he could see the snapped strings peeling back from the fretboard. The ends were frayed and blackened, almost as if they’d been touched by fire. The rounded back of the instrument was cracked open, charred edges looking almost as if lightning had struck. 

He looked over at Yennefer, eyes wide. “What could do this?”

She pursed her lips, eyes calculating as she looked between the damaged lute and the crumpled form of Amaris. The silence hung in the air for several moments as everyone in the room focused on her. “I have a theory,” she said, finally. “But it’s based on rumours and I’m not entirely sure how to test it.” For the first time that Jaskier could remember, she looked incredibly unsettled. “The only way I can see is to get into her head - read her thoughts and memories.”

“No!” Lambert’s shouted voice was anguished. “She’s just a kid,” he said plaintively, holding her closer. “What kind of fucking rumours would need you to root around inside her mind?”

“Yen,” Geralt started quietly, drawing all attention to himself. He was frowning at her, but another look passed between them that Jaskier couldn’t read. She nodded her head sharply and he growled before spinning on his heel and stalking out of the office. 

Jaskier moved to follow but Eskel held up his hand and shook his head. The bard blew out a breath in frustration. “This isn’t the time for your silent, secretive conversations.” He rounded on Yennefer, eyes flashing as he brandished the fire-cracked lute. “What rumours?” he gritted out at her. 

There was another silent moment as the mage considered him and for a split second Jaskier thought maybe he’d finally overstepped himself. But she sighed and moved to kneel in front of Lambert, gathering one of Amaris’ long-fingered hands in hers. 

“A few years ago, I heard a rumour that there was a group of mages experimenting with different monstrous properties. There was some thought that they were trying to replicate the Witcher Trials, but obviously with no success.” She sighed, gently rubbing the back of Amaris’ limp hand. “Other stories cropped up a few times, but in the last two years, the rumours became more specific. They were using faerie blood, injecting it into children to try to enhance their magical effects. I think that’s what’s shielding Amaris from my magic - the two are incompatible.” Carefully, she tucked the girl’s hand back into her lap and stood up. “But I’d have to look into her memories to see if it’s true.”

Jaskier took a moment to digest this information. He had so many questions. The first of which was - “So there may be other children like her?”

Yen shrugged. “The process is most likely akin to what Witcher trainees go through. I doubt very many survive it.” She crossed her arms over her chest and looked over at Eskel. “When do the patrols return from the border?”

“Sometime this week,” he answered absently. 

“Maybe they’ll bring some more information with them.” She didn’t look entirely convinced, but Jaskier could see the lines of strain around her mouth and eyes. Whatever spells she’d done to try to find Amaris had taken more of a toll than she was letting on. 

This wasn’t getting solved in a day. And certainly not with all of them standing around conjecturing. “All right,” Jaskier started, pulling his thoughts together. “Lambert, take Amaris to her rooms and put her to bed. Post a guard. I don’t care if it’s you, but it better be a Witcher. Cats, if you can. They like her. Eskel, we can pull all the border patrol reports from the last year and see if there’s any passing mention of what Yen’s talking about. Someone may have seen something and written it down, even if they didn’t know what they were looking at in context at the time. Yen, I’m sure you have some research that only you can do to clear up your theories?” He posed the last part as a question, and she nodded. “Good. I’m going to retire this lute, I suppose. Shame. Had a lot of memories attached to it.”

Lambert stood, still cradling Amaris to his chest like she was made of spun glass. “Ya, it was in the room the first time the White Wolf fucked you.” He smirked as he hurried out the door, followed by Jaskier’s startled laughter, Yennefer’s incredulous huff and Vesemir’s long-suffering groan.

“I’m glad someone’s kept their sense of humour,” he said wryly. He rubbed a hand over his face and looked back at the lute in his hand. 

_ What the fuck? _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and kudos give me life. I am absolutely having fun in this world. 
> 
> Come find me on tumblr [major-trouble](https://major-trouble.tumblr.com/)


	3. Third Movement - Development

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amaris woke up as she always did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am humbled by your lovely comments and kudos and also your patience as I deal with my personal life. I hope you enjoy this chapter from our tiny child's POV. Thank-you!

Amaris woke up as she always did - all at once, instantly alert, but still completely relaxed. She’d perfected the method over years of sleeping in odd places. In this way, she could acclimate herself to wherever she was without letting anyone know she was awake yet, giving herself a chance to assess the situation and decide on the next course of action. It was a skill that had kept her alive and mostly whole after her parents had sold her. 

Her thoughts instantly shied away from that memory and went back to analyzing the memories of the previous day instead. The lute had just begun to feel more natural under her fingers since coming to the keep, so she’d climbed one of the less used stairways, careful that no one saw her, and swung out the window at the top of the tower. She’d run sure-footed across the edge of the wall and settled down into the alcove at the very end created where the two rooflines met. It was sheltered from the wind there, though she could still see out over the training grounds far below. She’d wanted to practice out here, in the creeping cold of the early autumn air, trying to make her hands stronger so they could withstand the biting breeze. Even numb her fingers still walked across the frets with only slight hesitation and she hummed to herself the melody of the song as she played. The sound from the lute itself was whipped away by the wind too quickly for her to actually hear, but she could feel the vibrations where the back of the instrument pressed firmly against her stomach and chest. It was slightly too big for her to really play properly, but she made do. 

The mid-afternoon sun slanted across the top of Kaer Morhen, just touching the top of the alcove she was sitting in, and Amaris was thinking about heading back down into the keep soon to scrounge up a snack before supper, when fire crackled along her skin. Flames leapt and attacked the lute, snapping strings and crawling along the body to burst out between the seams of wood. It _hurt_. Hurt like nothing ever had. She could see her skin charring, crisping up under the blue-white flames and she panicked. 

The very last thing she remembered was screaming before the grey edge of unconsciousness took her. But that couldn’t be right. She wasn’t allowed to scream. Screaming damaged the vocal cords, set back weeks or even months of hard work. The teachers would be very upset. 

But she wasn’t with the teachers anymore. 

Amaris opened her eyes. She was tucked into her bed, back in her room, and she was alone. Bringing her hands up to her face, she couldn’t see a trace of the fire that had engulfed them so mercilessly. Sitting up slowly, she noted with a wave of relief that made her feel almost nauseous that she was still dressed: only her boots had been removed, and were neatly stacked on the floor beside the end of her bed. There was a lantern burning on the chest under the window, and she was surprised to see it was full dark outside. How long had she been asleep? 

Cautiously, she climbed out of the bed and stuffed her feet into her boots. She stood in front of the door for several long moments, listening intently for movement or voices or any indication that anyone was awake, but it must have been quite late and the keep was silent. If she was being perfectly honest with herself, she didn’t really want to leave her room, but her stomach was tying itself in knots with hunger and her skin was beginning to crawl with the need to wash. Screwing up her courage, she opened the door as quietly as she could and poked her head out into the dimly lit hallway. 

Two glowing eyes looked back at her from where the Witcher knelt beside the door. He wasn’t one she recognized and she regarded him impassively for a moment before he spoke. 

“Hello, Amaris,” he said, voice warm and quiet. “Do you need anything? It’s very late.” 

She narrowed her eyes at him, glancing down at the medallion on his chest - _Cat_ \- before replying. “I’ve missed supper, haven’t I?” she asked, tentatively, trying to put as much resigned sadness into her voice as she could muster. 

The Cat nodded. “You have. But I can have something brought up for you.” 

Amaris considered this. If she said yes, would he go see to that personally? Or would he stay here and.. do whatever it was he was doing and send someone else? What _was_ he doing here? Protecting her? Guarding her? Was she allowed to leave her room? Was she a prisoner? Is that why he was here? Should she test that? 

“I would like that very much,” she said, smiling. “I’m going to go down to the baths in the meantime.” 

He nodded before gracefully unfolding himself to stand beside her. “All right. Don’t be too long.” 

Amaris nodded back, closing the door behind her and quickly making her way down the hall and towards the hot springs. The Cat didn’t make a move to follow her, and she let her shoulders sag a little in relief. They were worried, then. Protecting. That was good. Better not to have them overly suspicious of her after presumably passing out and needing to be brought back to her room unconscious. 

The hot springs were deserted, just the way she liked it. She stripped quickly, slipping into one of the lower pools with hardly a ripple. The water felt like a blessing against her overly-warm skin and she sank to the bottom, closing her eyes and relishing the sensation for as long as her lungs let her before bobbing back to the surface. She found some soap conveniently placed along the edge of the pool and scrubbed herself down with brisk efficiency whilst still being careful of the tender places along her ribs and upper arms. The bruises had faded considerably over the past two months she’d been here at the keep, but they’d been so deep in the muscles that it was only now that they’d lightened from vivid purples and reds to the lighter, sicklier greens and yellows. Another couple of weeks and they’d be gone completely. She was lucky it was only bruising, and that her skin hadn’t been prone to the scars some of the other children had sported. Amaris rubbed at her ears self-consciously as her mind shied away from the memories by reflex. 

Once finished bathing, she let herself sink below the surface of the pool so that only the top of her head was visible, eyes peering out across the expanse of the hot springs. It was peaceful down here, in the semi-dark of nearly silent night. The only sound was the gentle lapping and trickling of water and it lulled her senses, calming her as only the sound of water could. She’d learned many years ago, that listening to the rush of a stream, or the pattering of raindrops, or even the quiet movement on the surface of a pond, spoke to something inside her. It tugged at her heart and spread a sense of calm through her mind, pushing out the usual chaos that sometimes threatened to overwhelm her. 

When she’d learned to read, she’d found a book of children’s stories. Inside was the tale of a water nymph who fell in love with a bard. Everyday the bard would come down to her river and sing for her, though he didn’t know she was there. Amaris fancied the story was about her parents, even though she knew her parents had sold her when she was still a tiny baby, and she couldn’t remember anything about them. 

The story, like all stories about creatures loving humans, ended in tragedy. But Amaris never read to the end. She always stopped when the water nymph revealed herself to the bard and the bard started writing songs about her. Not about her beauty - though she was very beautiful - but about her smile, her laugh, her voice, her wit. The way she teased him and the way he teased her back. 

Amaris wanted to write songs like that. Had wanted to ever since she’d begun to sing and the teachers had coached her to use her voice _just so_ and entangle an audience in the music. Then she’d started to hear rumours and stories about Kaer Morhen and the Witcher’s Bard. And she’d heard his songs and listened to the melodies and sung them herself and started believing that maybe she _could_ do the things she wanted to. Things the teachers forbade. 

It had been laughably easy to convince them to let her sing in the surrounding villages, to test her abilities amongst the people living there. They’d sent guardians with her, of course, but she’d hummed a lullaby to them on the third night, stuffed as much of her clothing and food as she could into a travel bag, and slipped out the window. 

It had taken her nearly five weeks to walk to Kaer Morhen. The bruises had originally been black stains over her skin.

Footsteps brought her back to the present and she moved to the far side of the pool, deeper into the shadows cast by the soft light from the lanterns. The first time someone else had found her down here in the middle of the night, it had been Milena. The lady-in-waiting had smiled at her from the edge of the pool, assuring her that she only wanted to make sure she was all right. Amaris had been suspicious of her motivations at first, but Milena was gentle and calm and had left just as soon as she’d arrived. Amaris had still started varrying the time she came down to the bathing rooms after that, but no one else had ventured out to disturb her since. Now, she watched as one of the sorceresses made her way carefully between the pools, coming to kneel on the edge of the one Amaris was still occupying, paying no attention to the water that soaked into the skirts of her dress. Violet eyes nearly glowed as brightly as any Witcher’s as she regarded her across the pool. _Yennefer_ the name flashed across her mind. This was the powerful sorceress at the Wolf’s left hand. There was a silent tension in the air as they stared at each other before Yennefer sighed and ran a hand through the black curls of her hair. 

“Aiden was worried you may have drowned yourself, little one,” she said, wry amusement colouring her tone. Amaris found herself grinning back in response, though she was glad to know the Cat’s name now. “You’ve been down here a good long while. Do you want to come up and eat something?” She hesitated for a moment before continuing. “I’d very much like a chance to talk with you.”

Amaris considered the request carefully. She knew the sorceress could simply coerce her into speaking if she really wanted to. The teachers certainly would have. That she was asking at all was a good sign. 

“Of course, Lady Yennefer. I didn’t mean to take so long. Must have been lost in thought.” She swam over to pull herself out of the pool, wrapping one of the thick plush towels around her skinny frame. She gathered her clothes under her arm. She stepped back as Yennefer pushed herself to her feet. 

The sorceress gave her a quizzical expression before turning and leading the way out of the hot springs. “That must be a bard thing,” she seemed to muse. “Jaskier does it all the time. Composing, mostly.”

That was an interesting tidbit of information. “Does he? All the time? How does he get anything else done?”

Yennefer let out a startled chuckle. “That, little one, is a very good question.” 

They made their way back up through the keep to Amaris’ room, chatting amiably. Aiden was leaning against the wall outside of her door, flipping a knife back and forth over the backs of his hands with such ease and dexterity that Amaris was in awe. She needed to get the Witcher to teach her that. It was probably all for show, but distraction was always a good tactic. 

Yennefer nodded at him as she opened the door, ushering Amaris ahead of her. On the table in the small sitting room was a tray filled with thick slices of bread, wedges of cheese and apple and even a handful of fresh strawberries. Two tankards and a wine goblet sat beside the tray as well; one tankard full of clean well water, one of very watered down apple cider. The wine goblet was plucked from the table as Yennefer sat down, seeming to look around the room with some interest as Amaris eyed her warily for a moment before heading back to her bedroom, firmly closing the door. She dumped her armload of clothes onto the bed before pulling out a fresh set and hurriedly putting them on. She re-joined Yennefer at the table and looked over the offered food critically for a moment before settling on one of the slices of bread spread with butter and honey. 

The sorceress watched her as she ate, taking small sips from the goblet in her hands, but otherwise not making any indication she was going to start the conversation. It was making Amaris very nervous. The teachers used to do this to her, especially when she’d made mistakes. They knew she couldn’t keep silent for very long, her natural tendency to fill any silence winning out over want to stay quiet. She began to feel the words pushing up her throat and no amount of swallowing was going to keep them down. 

Finally, she broke. “Are you going to make me leave?” she blurted out. She felt her face go hot as the words left her mouth. “I - I didn’t mean to break Master Jaskier’s lute. It just happened! And I couldn’t stop the flames. They just burned and burned and my skin!” Tears were starting to blur her vision as she held her hands out to Yennefer. “It was black and cracking and I - I screamed,” she whispered the word. “I’m not supposed to scream.” Her hands went unconsciously to her throat. If the teachers knew she’d undone their work they would punish her.

But she wasn’t with the teachers anymore.

“Amaris,” Yennefer’s calm voice made her snap her head up to look into those violet eyes. “No one is going to make you leave. Do you understand?” Amaris stared back at her, trying to see any lie, any deceit but there was nothing but concern and maybe a little confusion. She nodded and Yennefer continued. “Good. Now, what happened to Jaskier’s lute?” 

“Uh,” Amaris stalled, trying to find the right words. _They weren’t going to make her leave. That was.. That was good._ “I’m not - not sure.” She looked up when Yennefer made a sound in the back of her throat. “I’m not lying!” she was quick to reassure. “It’s never happened before.”

“Would you - would it be easier to show me?” Yennefer asked, still in that gentle voice. 

Amaris narrowed her eyes. “Show you how?”

“If you let me look into your thoughts, your memories from yesterday, I can see what happened. Stop it from happening again.”

She considered this carefully. Amaris had had mages in her mind before, but that had been to dampen the pain - they hadn’t been looking at her thoughts. _But what if she sees - ?_ “Are you only going to look at the memories from yesterday?” she asked, suspiciously. 

Yennefer quirked an eyebrow at her. “Of course, little one. I would only look where you let me.”

The room was quiet for another long moment before Amaris nodded. “All right. Will it hurt?”

Yennefer snorted. “You’d agree to it before knowing if it would cause you pain?”

Amaris shrugged and looked at Yennefer skeptically. “Pain is only temporary - you can block it out if you’re prepared.” Everyone knew that. 

“Hmmm,” was all the sorceress responded to that. She got up and dragged her chair over so that it faced Amaris. “Sit back in your chair so you’re comfortable. This will only take a moment.” 

Tucking her feet up under herself, Amaris relaxed into the chair, letting her eyes fall closed and waiting for Yennefer. She felt the sorceress touch a cool fingertip to her brow and then the room faded away. 

She was back on the roof, lute in hand, fingers pressing firmly across the fretboard. She glanced down across the training grounds, just able to pick out Cedric and Axel - two Cat Witchers who had played hide and seek with her - amongst the scattering of Witchers engaged in mock-battles below her. The breeze was picking up as the sun started its descent behind the mountains and she thought about heading down to the kitchens for a snack before supper. 

Suddenly she was on fire, but instead of the moment progressing, flames leaping outward to consume the lute in her hands, it froze. Amaris found herself outside of it, looking at the wide-eyed, terrified expression on her own face. 

_What is happening?_ she thought frantically.

_This is the moment I found you,_ came Yennefer’s voice inside her head. 

_You were looking for me?_

_Yes. Eskel and Lambert couldn’t find you, so they asked me to track you. But I couldn’t find you either. I found the lute._

_The lute? Why couldn’t you find me?_

_A very good question, little one. But first, where did the flames come from?_

The memory shifted so that she was back inside her body again, and she braced herself for the horrible feeling of pain, but it never came. There was an amused chuckle that seemed to come from behind her. 

_I’m blocking out the memory of the pain for you. I want you to concentrate on where the flames started._

Amaris looked out through her memory’s eyes and saw the first licks of bue-white fire on the palms of her hands, tracing outwards to her fingertips and backwards up her arms. _There,_ she thought. _Where I’m touching the lute._

_Of course. The magic that’s protecting you started where mine crossed it. That… makes an awful lot of sense, unfortunately._

_Unfortunately?_

_Hmm. Let’s move forward._

The memory shifted and she was outside again, watching the flames destroy the lute and course across her arms, up over her face and dance through the rigid lines of her hair. She watched as her eyes opened so very wide, the pupils eclipsing any colour until her eyes were completely black.

_What the fuck? What is happening to me?_

Her mouth opened and she could see the wave forming, the crest of it rising on the back of her tongue. 

Unbidden, she cringed away from it and the thought came: _No, no the teachers will be angry… I don’t want to be punished!_

The scene stopped. Amaris opened her eyes to Yennefer sitting back in her chair, gazing at her curiously, but with a great deal of confusion. 

“Who are the teachers?”

Amaris suddenly felt incredibly exhausted and exposed. She rubbed her hands over her face and debated the best course of action. She hadn’t meant to think that, but it was reflex. The very last thing she wanted to do was tell this sorceress about the teachers. Would she take her back to them?

Again she considered her options carefully before gathering her courage around her like a shield and looking the sorceress - _the Mage_ \- in the eye and replying with all the conviction she had, smiling tightly as she did so. “That’s not something you need to worry about. I’m more concerned about what you said - that whatever magic is protecting me reacted to _you_. If your magic was just trying to find me, why was the reaction so violent?”

For a moment, Yennefer looked taken aback before her mask of calm slid into place. “Another good question, little one.” She stood abruptly and paced across the room towards the door. “I think you should get some sleep. You’ll be useless in your lessons tomorrow otherwise.” With that, she glided out of the room, leaving Amaris alone with her thoughts.

They weren’t very good ones and it took her a long time before she managed to drag herself back into her bed. The shivers that ran through her and kept her awake until the first rays of dawn approached had nothing to do with the cold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank-you so much for reading! Your comments and kudos mean the world to me.

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave kudos and comments as you wish - as any fanfic author does, I thrive on them. 
> 
> Come find me at [major-trouble](https://major-trouble.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr. You can always leave me prompts there and I will try to do them justice.


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